When economist Thorstein Veblen coined the term “conspicuous consumption” in 1899, he was describing a new kind of social display: one where people bought goods not out of need but as “trophies of success.” To Veblen, the emerging “leisure class” proved its superiority not by labor or contribution but by its seeming exemption from work and its power to waste. The middle class, desperate to prove this distinction too, would spend an outsized portion of their income on glimmering dresses and other purchases meant to be seen by others.
TL;DR
- Gen Z is shifting from quiet luxury to conspicuous consumption, prioritizing statement pieces over daily indulgences.
- Younger consumers are packing lunches and redirecting savings toward luxury items like Coach bags and Christian Louboutins.
- Social media and influencers play a significant role in Gen Z's fashion discovery and purchasing decisions.
- Gen Z is projected to drive a substantial portion of U.S. fashion expenditure, demonstrating a focus on accessible luxury and performance of taste.
More than century later, Veblen’s theory hasn’t disappeared. But younger shoppers are increasingly cutting back on small daily indulgences while redirecting those savings toward statement pieces. Chipotle and Cava both reported weaker sales this fall, blaming a slowdown among younger diners who are packing lunches instead. Tapestry, the parent company of Coach,said Gen Z now accounts for roughly 35% of its new customers, which enabled the brand to surpass Wall Street's predictions and elevate its full-year outlook.
“We’re attracting younger consumers at a faster pace,” CEO Joanne Crevoiserat told CNBC. “The Gen Z consumer is highly fashion-engaged, spending slightly more of their budget on fashion.”
This recent spending trend mirrors what Veblen termed “vicarious leisure,”, indicating a focus on discernment over opulence. Purchasing a $400 Coach tote instead of spending that money on a week's worth of takeout meals serves as both a reward and a source of comfort, demonstrating both discipline and fashion sense simultaneously.
Consider, for instance, the comeback of Christian Louboutins, those bright red stilettos that once epitomized the power dressing style of the 2000s. Sales on resale sites like The RealReal have surged 82% among new Gen Z buyers, according to the New York Times, driven by influencers like Addison Rae. The stiletto's discomfort is often seen by many young women as part of its allure, serving as evidence that in an era dominated by casual sneakers, effort and glamour still hold value. The iconic red sole signifies the discomfort willingly borne to be recognized for that very suffering.
Men are also affected. Gen Z men have embraced luxury Swiss watches as status symbols, posting them on TikTok and Instagram. Sotheby's estimated that nearly a third of its watch sales in 2023 was acquired by buyers aged 30 or younger, bestowing upon them invaluable social capital.
Affordable opulence
A report released last month by Boston Consulting Group and WWD found indicated that individuals from Gen Z and Gen Alpha, aged 1 to 13 currently, are projected to account for over 40% of U.S. Consumer expenditure on fashion over the coming ten years. They already spend 7% more of their discretionary income on clothing and shoes than older adults.
The change is evident on social platforms. On TikTok, “Ralph Lauren Christmas” has become this year’s aspirational aesthetic: plaid ribbons, outsized candlesticks, and velvet drapes recreated from dollar-store finds. Searches for the phrase are up more than 600%, and Etsy searches for related décor rose 180%. The trend reflects a sort of accessible luxury, a wish to suggest the sophistication of affluence without the expense.
Younger consumers are, as Veblen might put it, performing taste with efficiency. They still pursue distinction, but the medium is creative reuse rather than cash flow.
Influencer culture has supercharged this feedback loop. What Veblen saw as the public exhibition of wealth has become the performance of aspiration, now filmed, edited, and pushed through a recommendation feed. TikTok and Instagram influencers act as both tastemakers and salespeople, offering five-minute testimonials that make luxury feel both attainable and necessary.
According to the BCG report, 65% of Gen Z consumers say social media is their primary source of fashion discovery, more than twice the share of any older generation. Nearly half report buying products directly because they saw them on TikTok or Instagram, and 40% already use AI-powered recommendation tools to compare styles and prices. The result is a generation whose spending patterns are shaped less by brand loyalty than by algorithmic suggestion.
That means the marketing never switches off; it lives on their For You pages, customized by data to spark new cravings daily. Many young consumers, already juggling high costs for food, rent, and education, and crushed by an unsympathetic labor market, are entering adulthood with the self-care budget of a socialite twice their age.
It starts remarkably young these days. Ten-year-olds are saving their allowances for $70 moisturizers and $90 serums, mimicking influencer routines meant for adults. Girls as young as eight have suffered chemical burns and rashes from overusing anti-aging products whose pastel packaging and “glow” marketing make them irresistible on TikTok. Even before adolescence, the youth themselves are performing refinement—an early initiation into the aesthetics of conspicuous consumption.
For Veblen, this constant striving was never about the goods themselves. It was about social reassurance.
“The end sought by accumulation,” he wrote, “is not consumption of goods, but the evidence of wealth.”